Page 50 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

Madden

I’ve been swamped with practice and midterms all week, and with Theo being in a similar boat, we’ve only seen each other twice since I snuck out of his house.

Both of those instances were at the batting cages, which is frustrating considering how addicted I’ve gotten to his presence.

But it’s better than nothing, so I’m taking every hour-long hitting session—followed by a quick make out or blow job—I can get.

Today, though? I’m full of anticipation and excitement knowing I’ll be spending most of the weekend with him, even if we’re on opposite sides of the diamond.

Our first conference game of the year is always against Leighton—yet another layer of the tradition between our two schools—but it feels different this year.

And while I might be sleeping with the so-called enemy, as I stare out at the field from where I lean on the dugout railing, I don’t think it has anything to do with Theo.

It’s knowing this might be the last time I experience all this.

If all goes well this season, there’s a chance I won’t be back next year.

Won’t play another series against the Timberwolves, because I won’t be a Falcon anymore.

It’s bittersweet to think about, because the hype of a rivalry game, the Penny Play…

it does mean something to me, even if it’s not on the same level as Theo or my other teammates.

It’s actually in these moments that I understand his feeling of being torn between me and his team.

We’re part of something special here, and it doesn’t last forever.

“Think any harder and you might pop a blood vessel.”

The sound of Theo’s voice pulls me from my musings, only to find him walking around the warning track behind home plate. He’s still dressed in his street clothes; a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, but he looks as delectable as always when he descends the set of stairs into the dugout.

“What are you doing here already?”

“Looking for you,” he says matter-of-factly. “I stopped at your place and Miles told me you’d already left for the field.”

My brows hike up and I cock my head. “You’re telling me you willingly went on Falcon territory just to find me?”

“Technically, I still am.” He rolls his eyes and motions around the dugout— our dugout—before muttering, “Even more so right now.”

“Truly behind enemy lines, it seems,” I say with a laugh.

“Yeah. That’s happening more often than not, thanks to you.”

There’s a playful twinkle in his gaze as he says it, and a hint of mischief too, before he cups the side of my face, turns my head, and kisses me gently.

At least, it starts out gentle, but then it quickly becomes heated and hungry when his tongue teases the seam of my lips, only to dart inside my mouth.

A moan vibrates between our lips, only to be swallowed down before it can escape. I’m not sure who it came from, but I’m willing to bet it was me when another sounds out as he pulls me in closer by anchoring his free hand on my waist.

My dick takes notice of his own thickening against my thigh, and while I’d love nothing more than to feed the growing need for him, I’m very, very aware of where we are right now. Which is why I do the smart thing and break the kiss before either of us can get carried away.

There’s a lusty haze in his eyes when they open, and I can’t help the little chuckles from leaving me.

“Now I see why you were looking for me. Damn nympho.”

He laughs softly; a sound that’s quickly become my absolute favorite to hear falling from his lips. Maybe even more than the little sigh he makes after he comes.

“Can’t help it. You’ve created a monster,” he teases before kissing me again.

This one is far softer and sweeter, but it still has the same effect: causing my cock to twitch behind my uniform pants.

Theo moves in behind me, the hand on my waist sliding down over my ass. The other joins the party, rubbing and kneading the globes in his palms while his lips land on the base of my neck.

“Not that I’m complaining about this view, but I can’t believe you’re dressed already.” He playfully taps the bottom curve of my ass with his hands, the muscles bouncing from his touch until I flex them. “We’ve still got an hour until everyone else is due to show.”

“It’s called dedication. And besides, the early Falcon gets the win,” I remind him.

He laughs. “Pretty sure it’s bird and worm .”

“Just wait. You’ll see.”

A low, skeptical hum comes from him at the same time his hands leave my ass, his arms wrapping around my waist and hugging me from behind instead.

I feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, sending a warm feeling flooding through my extremities.

He’s so easily affectionate now; it’s a far cry from the guy who bolted out of my lap in Vermont only a few short months ago.

Sometimes, I hardly think he’s the same person at all.

“What were you thinking about so hard when I got here?” he asks after a moment.

Sighing, I whisper, “That I’m gonna miss this.”

His arms stiffen around me slightly. “Define this. ”

“Playing for Blackmore,” I clarify, still staring out at the field. “This might be the last season I play here if I get drafted, you know? Not to mention the last time I face off against you on the field for a full series. It’s sad to think about.”

“I get it. But think about it this way: You’ll be on to bigger and better things.”

“Hopefully.”

“Not hopefully. You will.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of my shoulder before resting his chin there. “If I’m sure of anything, it’s that you’re gonna make it to the big leagues.”

I’m flooded with another wave of warmth, a sense of gratitude washing over me at the confidence in his voice. While I don’t necessarily need the validation—knowing damn well what I’m capable of achieving—sometimes it’s nice to hear others see it too.

And for it to come from him means more than it would anyone else.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me for speaking facts. But maybe you could use a distraction. Something to get your mind off baseball for a minute,” he suggests before kissing me yet again, this time to that sensitive spot below my ear.

A wry laugh slips out, and I shake my head. “Seeing as we’re literally standing in a dugout, I highly doubt that’s possible.”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m sure I could think of a few ways.”

The arms wrapped around my waist pull back a bit until his hands anchor on my hips. His fingers tighten, gripping hard while he arches into me, sliding his erection up and down my crease.

“Have I mentioned how amazing your ass looks in these pants?” he muses while rocking into me some more. “Almost as amazing as it does completely bare, my cock disappearing between your cheeks.”

Holy shit.

I don’t think anything that filthy has ever left his mouth before, but damn if I’m not a fan. It’s obvious from the way my dick is now straining against the fabric of my uniform, aching to be let free.

“Sounds like you’re getting some ideas.”

His breath coasts over my skin before another kiss lands on my throat. “With you? Always.”

“Careful,” I murmur, arching back into him. “Keep touching me like this and there’s bound to be consequences.”

“Maybe I wanna find out what those are,” he says, voice coming out raspy and hoarse with lust. His forehead presses against the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine when he murmurs, “Ever think of that?”

I let out a breathy laugh. “A little overzealous for being in public, aren’t we?”

Though, come to think of it, he’s mentioned being keen to try playing in public—something bordering exhibitionism and agoraphilia.

He lets out a soft hum, licking and nipping at my neck, my shoulder. He’s all over the place now; completely unhinged by desire. Stripped down to pure, carnal need.

“This is what you do to me. You drive me fucking crazy.”

His hand slips around to the front of my waist, deft fingers working open my belt, then the button of my pants, before diving into my underwear.

A zap of desire hits me low in my stomach when his palm wraps around me, heightening with every kiss he presses to my neck, my jaw, the space behind my ear.

As much as I love calling the shots, there’s nothing hotter than when Theo takes control.

“Do you want me to stop?”

I shake my head before I can even think it through.

Taking the answer at face value, he strokes me from tip to base, rolling his palm around the head on every upstroke. My hips move with him, arching into his hand before pressing back against the ridge of his erection, grinding our bodies together like a couple of feral, needy animals in heat.

His soft pants whisper in my ear, the sound spiking my heart rate, but it has nothing on when he murmurs, “God, I wanna be inside you.”

Shit, with how keyed up and turned on I am, my thoughts are running in a similar lane. But I’m still hyperaware of our location. And while neither of our teams are due for an hour, any one of the ballpark employees could stumble upon us in this already very compromising position.

“Someone could see.”

“I don’t care,” he rasps immediately. “Let them watch, Madden. I don’t care as long as I’m inside you in the next two minutes.”

I turn to look him in the eye over my shoulder, both shocked and ridiculously aroused by his declaration. “You can’t seriously mean that.”

“Except I do.” He has that look in his eyes—the one where he’s begging me to hear what he has to say—and he lets out a resigned little chuckle.

“The way I want you…it fucking kills me. Every time you’re near, I can’t think about anything else except touching you, tasting you.

Marking every inch of your body as mine. You’ve ruined me.”

My jaw tics as I stare at him, into the eyes of this man who never fails to surprise me.